


a day like any other

by Katbelle



Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Author Chose Not to Tag to Keep the Twist, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Minor Foggy Nelson/Marci Stahl, Minor Frank Castle/Karen Page, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katbelle/pseuds/Katbelle
Summary: Matt has a good day. Nothing whatsoever goes wrong.It’s a bright and early summer morning – and it’ll be a beautiful sunny day, they really are having a heatwave – the birds in the tree outside of his office window are chirping happily, the motion to extend he filed in court three days ago was approved, and in the office next to his, Karen’s phone is ringing. He had an egg sandwich from that fancy new corner café for breakfast – still has a bit of it stashed in his bag – and nothing hurts. Literally. Literally nothing hurts him.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Franklin "Foggy" Nelson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44
Collections: DDE’s 2021 New Year’s Day Exchange





	a day like any other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shivarus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shivarus/gifts).



> Dear recipient, happy New Year! I hope you enjoy this humble offering, even if it only kind of stood next to one of your prompts.
> 
> I have decided not to include tags in this because I'd like to keep the surprise. If you really need to be warned beforehand, check the tags listed in end notes.

**a day like any other**

Day 0

Matt leans back in his chair and sighs.

It’s a bright and early summer morning – and it’ll be a beautiful sunny day, they really are having a heatwave – the birds in the tree outside of his office window are chirping happily, the motion to extend he filed in court three days ago was approved, and in the office next to his, Karen’s phone is ringing. He had an egg sandwich from that fancy new corner café for breakfast – still has a bit of it stashed in his bag – and nothing hurts. Literally. Literally nothing hurts him.

It’s a great day and Matt allows himself to smile. He even fights the rising anxiety, that Stick-like little voice at the back of his head telling him that this won’t last, that this is too good, that something horrible will surely happen soon. _Bad thoughts_ , Matt tells himself. He’s getting better at recognizing them. He’s still unsure of what he’s supposed to do about them, exactly, but. Marci says acknowledgment is a first step.

They even have a potential new client lined up. A fairly simple civil case, a woman and her dog, Foggy just needs to sign off on it too and they’ll have another win in their pockets. Along with some decent money, for once.

Foggy sticks his head into his office. “You’ve got plans for the evening?”

Matt doesn’t, in fact, have plans for the evening. Nothing much is happening in New York, which might be an absolute first. Just some third rate idiot on stilts robbing houses, but that was closer to Upper East and therefore not really Matt’s problem.

He smiles. Shakes his head. Smiles even wider when he hears Foggy huff out a laugh. “Not a thing,” he says. “No pressing matters to attend to whatsoever.”

“Perfect.” Foggy drums his fingers on Matt’s doorframe. “Then you’re coming with me to check out that new bar on our block.”

“Marci finally letting you out again?” Foggy makes a move as if to take a pen out of his breast pocket and Matt preemptively ducks. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Marci’s old roommate is getting married and the ladies are going dancing. And since we’re both free tonight...” Foggy trails off. “Well, let’s just say that there’s definitely a bottle bearing our names somewhere.”

“Is Karen coming?”

Not that he doesn’t enjoy Karen’s company or doesn’t want Karen to come, it’s just--sometimes it’s nice to just enjoy Foggy alone.

“She has a date with Frank Castle, don’t tell her that I know, she’ll freak out.”

Ah. So it’s one of those evenings. For a moment – for the millionth time – he wonders when Foggy got so blasé about all their messes.

“So I guess it’s just gonna be you, me, and a bottle bearing our names.”

“A tragedy,” Foggy says, mock serious. Matt knows he wants it.

Matt swipes a pen off his own desk and throws at Foggy. Foggy lacks his supersenses and fails to dodge, the pen hits him right in the nose. He rubs at it and grumbles under his breath, and Matt’s certain he’s cursing Matt, Matt’s pen and possibly also all of Matt’s ancestors. He flips Matt off and withdraws from the doorway.

“You’ll jinx it!” Matt calls after him, but doesn’t mean it.

It’s a good day.

Whatever could go wrong. 

Day 1

Foggy’s late.

Matt frowns and checks his watch again.

Foggy’s still late.

Matt puts his half-eaten sandwich into its wrapper and then into his bag, and moves to grab his phone. Foggy is--well, ‘never late’ might be a stretch, but Foggy is late so rarely that whenever it happens, it’s a cause for concern. There is no reason for Foggy to be late. They had no early out-of-office meetings, the day was pretty so it’s not like the rain held him up.

Matt’s halfway through dialing Foggy’s number when the front door to their office opens and Foggy enters. Stumbles inside, tripping over himself in his haste. There doesn’t seem to be anything _wrong_ with him, not anything that Matt can _sense_ in any case, but he still bolts from his chair and rushes over to him. Because that’s not normal. It’s not a Foggy thing, stumbling into places and falling over his own feet. That’s a Matt thing.

A Foggy thing would be to enter their office gracefully, with an avocado toast in hand and a sunny smile and a sunny disposition. Another Foggy thing would be to enter their office fuming and refuse to even spare a glance at Matt. Which of the two it would be at any given day was wholly dependant on what Matt was doing the night before and how much blood he lost.

This, this isn’t normal.

“Are you alright?” Matt asks as he grabs Foggy’s arm to steady him. Foggy’s heart is beating too fast. Also not normal, but not terribly concerning either.

“I’m--“ Foggy chokes out. “I’m, I’m perfectly fine.”

He doesn’t sound fine, but Foggy has stopped pressing when it’s clear to him that Matt doesn’t want to share. And it’s clear to Matt now that _Foggy_ doesn’t want to share, and turnabout is fair play so he doesn’t. Press. Or pry. He just tightens his hold on Foggy’s arm and squeezes, once, to reassure.

He deposits Foggy in their little kitchen and offers to make coffee, and then proceeds with doing exactly that once he hears no objections.

Foggy takes a deep shaky breath. “Just--“

Matt feels Foggy stare at him. That’s not unusual, Foggy sometimes stares as if afraid that the moment he takes his eyes off of Matt, Matt will vanish. Disappear. Poof and gone. Matt does feel bad about making him anxious like that.

“Just what?” he asks, gently, because he’s not pressing or prying, he doesn’t need to know – though he wants to – if Foggy doesn’t want to say. He’s busy making coffee anyway.

He hears Foggy swallow. “Had a rough night,” Foggy says. Matt makes a sympathetic noise. “But, let go and move on, you know?”

Matt doesn’t know, exactly. He puts a mug full of coffee in front of Foggy and smiles anyway. “Coffee cures all, or that’s what Karen would like us to believe.”

Foggy doesn’t laugh. But he does huff – and it sounds wet, wetish – and says, “Thank you.”

He sounds so sincere.

“Of course,” Matt replies.

He’s filled with dread. 

Day 4

Matt leans back in his chair and sighs tiredly.

Fuck.

He quickly saves the brief he’s been working on and pushes his laptop away. It’s not like he can focus anyway, with that damn phone on top of the heat. Matt rubs his temples and sighs again, resigned to the fact that a headache is coming and there’s little he can do about it. Well, he can do something about that phone at least.

He pushes himself up and ventures out of his office. The phone in Karen’s has been ringing on and off for over two hours now, and Karen wasn’t there to answer it. Matt isn’t sure _where_ Karen went, exactly; she wasn’t at the office when he came in in the morning. She was still MIA when Foggy ran into the office around nine, took one look at Matt, yelled something about having an urgent meeting somewhere with someone and promptly left, all before Matt managed to even say ‘good morning’. So. It sure was a morning. Which was a shame, because it looked like it was going to be a really good day – with summer in full swing and everything being _fine_ and _good_. 

Matt enters Karen’s office and picks up the offending phone. “Nelson, Murdock and Page, how may we help?”

No one answers.

Matt frowns. “Hello?”

Again, no one answers. Then the line goes utterly dead, so fast as if it were cut.

Huh. 

Weird. 

He puts the phone down, baffled. Someone might be playing pranks? Maybe Castle was trying to see if Karen was at the office? Not that he needed to, he had Karen’s mobile number and everyone knew it. Karen knew that they knew, they just... didn’t talk about it.

“Everything’s okay?”

Somehow, Foggy’s quiet voice catches him off-guard and isn’t that an embarrassment. Maybe this headache is worse than he initially thought.

“Fine,” he says nevertheless. Waves in the general direction of Karen’s phone. “It was ringing the whole morning.”

“Mhm.”

Foggy unlocks his own office doors and goes inside. Matt moves to follow, but stops in the doorway. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe. There’s something... _off_ about Foggy, he just can’t quite pinpoint what. He seems guarded. Tired. Sad. Some mix of all of those. And – despite appearing to be engrossed in the first file he grabbed off his desk – he keeps throwing Matt those furtive little glances. Matt wonders if he should call him out on it.

Decides against it, in the end. He won’t press. He won’t pry. He trusts – he hopes – that Foggy will tell him when he’s ready.

But he can’t keep himself from a, “Are _you_ okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Foggy says too quickly. Matt waits for the telltale quickening of his heartbeat, which would confirm that Foggy is lying, but it doesn’t come. Foggy’s heart remains suspiciously steady even though Matt _knows_ , from his years-long experience in all things Foggy Nelson, that Foggy is lying.

He lets it slide. For now. “How was your urgent meeting?”

“A complete waste of my time,” Foggy murmurs and this one Matt believes.

Day 7

Something’s wrong with Foggy.

That’s the conclusion Matt arrives at around 10 am after witnessing Foggy pour so much coffee into his cup that it overflows and not realizing it. While the former is not anything special – Matt remembers from both their law school days and their holy-shit-the-bar-is-coming days that Foggy was fully capable of spacing out so much that he’d forget what he was doing – but the latter was downright concerning. The coffee was hot. He didn’t notice it dripping all over the counter and his own hand.

Matt saved him from a potential burn and left him in his own office where he’s still currently sitting, almost half an hour after the coffee incident. And he’s not doing anything, just--sitting there at his desk, staring at a wall. Or Matt assumes he’s staring.

He has the general aura of a person who hasn’t slept in like a week.

Which is very on-brand for Matt, but Foggy? Not so much.

“Foggy.”

Nothing.

Firmer, “ _Foggy._ ”

Foggy’s head jerks up and to the side, towards Matt’s voice. “Hey,” Foggy says. Softly, in a warm tone which normally Matt would take as a sign that Foggy is glad to see him, but now...? He’s not even sure Foggy’s all _here_.

He shouldn’t press. Or pry. Foggy would tell him if there was anything wrong.

“Are you okay?” he asks anyway.

“Perfectly fine.”

Which is a blatant lie and Matt doesn’t even need his super senses to know that.

“Foggy,” he says, exasperated. And, okay. Being on the receiving end of the I-won’t-tell-you-why-I’m-hurting thing is _not_ nice. Is this about that? A taste of your own medicine treatment?

Foggy waves a hand. “No, really,” he insists. “Just--trouble sleeping. And I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast today.”

“Marci’s starving you?”

Foggy huffs out a laugh. “Not on purpose.”

No breakfast, huh? “Wait here,” Matt orders him, which is ridiculous because one, this is Foggy’s office they’re sitting in and two, it’s not like Foggy’s even in the state to go anywhere. Matt’s fairly certain that he’d walk face-first into a wall if he tried to leave.

He quickly goes back to his desk and grabs his bag, rummages through it. He still has some of that... Ah! He grabs the paper bag from his briefcase, fully intending on throwing it at Foggy from the doorway. But when he gets to Foggy’s door, Foggy’s sitting at his desk – exactly where Matt left him three minutes prior – with his head hung low and his hands in his hair, a picture of such misery and exhaustion that Matt takes a double-take and promptly gives up on being playful. 

He’d probably hit Foggy with that sandwich if he tried throwing the bag.

“Here,” he says instead and puts the paper bag on Foggy’s desk, right beside Foggy’s left elbow. “It’s an egg sandwich from that café at the corner. Or, well. Some of it.”

“You’ve been there today?” Foggy asks.

Matt shrugs. “Yeah, woke up surprisingly early and thought that I might check it out. You’d love the place, it’s very fancy.”

Foggy lowers his hands and reaches for the paper bag. 

“I’d say that you could ask Karen to whip something up for you,” Matt continues, “but,” he splays his hands wide, “she doesn’t seem to be in the office today.”

Foggy takes a bite of the sandwich. “She took a day off,” he says as if that explained everything.

And. Well. Good to know. 

Day 11

Matt’s writing a brief and has put his noice-cancelling headphones on to tune out the annoying sound of Karen’s phone ringing repeatedly in her office, and _that_ is the reason why he somehow missed the fact that Foggy has a guest in his office. He only becomes aware of this after – having decided to go and grab some coffee from the kitchen – he takes the headphones off and is immediately assaulted by Foggy’s raised voice.

“--aware of that, thank you very much.”

“Franklin Nelson,” says another voice, one that is somewhat familiar to Matt, but impossible to place at the moment. Was it someone from Danny’s company? For some reason it makes him think of Danny.

“No thank you.”

“Franklin--“

“I know.

“ _Nelson_ \--“

“We’re done here.”

Screech of a chair being violently pushed away. Footsteps. Door opening, more footsteps.

“Think about it again, Nelson,” that familiar voice says. It’s definitely someone Matt knows through Danny. The owner of that voice moves towards their front door. As he passes by Matt’s half-open door, he nods his head and says, “Matthew Murdock.”

 _Oh_.

“That’s the only thing I’m thinking about,” Foggy mutters as he usher the man away and out and pretty much slams the door behind him. Matt hears him sigh and bang his head against said door, once.

“Foggy?” he calls out from his office.

He gets a tired and dejected, “What?” 

“Why was Stephen Strange in your office?”

Foggy unpeels himself from their front door. He turns around and makes his way to Matt’s office, where he gracelessly throws himself into one of the client chairs facing Matt.

“Because it’s hard to let go and move on,” Foggy says, more to himself than as an answer for Matt. It explains exactly nothing, but from his interactions with Danny, and Danny and Strange both, Matt knows that cryptic half-answers are par for the course when dealing with them.

Foggy shudders. “Change of topic,” he declares. “Tell me something nice.”

Matt smiles. “Our motion to extend was granted. I’m surprised it only took them three days.”

“For the Williamson case?”

“Mhm.” Matt nods. “And there is a potential client. Chloe Jones, has issues with her landlord over her dog. She’s going to come tomorrow to talk with us. I think it’d be an easy win.”

“I could use a win right about now.”

Matt props his cheek with the back of his hand. It’s been a long time since he’s had the chance to enjoy spending time with Foggy, so maybe... “Any plans for tonight?”

Foggy glances at him. “No,” he says. Pauses, as if unsure. Then, “You?”

“Not a thing.” Matt scratches his chin. “Well, there’s this one idiot on stilts in Upper East Side, but that’s Rand’s territory, not mine.”

Foggy’s heart skips at the mention of the stilt guy. The knowledge warms Matt; no matter how much time passes, Foggy still worries about him. It shouldn’t comfort him, the anxiety he gives his best friend, but Matt is not a paragon of any virtue, so it does.

“I thought,” Matt continues, “that we could go and check out that new ba--“

“No,” Foggy cuts him off. Matt’s brows raise. Foggy clears his throat, “I’m not in the mood to go out. We could just order a pizza and crash at your place?”

“What are we, fifteen?” Matt quips. He waits for a reaction.

But Foggy doesn’t laugh. “I just want to spend a nice, quiet evening with you.” 

Day 15

“What if,” Foggy says suddenly, from the client chair in Matt’s office onto which he threw himself an hour ago and which he refused to vacate, “what if we just decide to close early today and go over to yours and _relax_? We’re in the middle of a heatwave. It’s a great day. Let’s just _go_.”

Matt doesn’t raise his head from the brief he’s writing. “Foggy, we can’t just do that.”

“Sure can,” Foggy argues. “We’re the bosses here, our names are literally on the sign at the front door. We can do what we want.”

“Foggy,” Matt tries again. “We need to work at the Williamson case, we--“

“We’ve been granted the extension, we don’t have to work on it right now.”

“Miss Jones--“

“Is not coming in until tomorrow.” Foggy sits up straight and scoots closer to the edge of the seat, closer to Matt. “Matty. Come on. Let’s do... let’s do something crazy and unexpected.”

Foggy proposing they skip work was already crazy and unexpected. But. Matt can’t say that he doesn’t see the appeal in that proposal. They could use some free time to relax, to unwind and enjoy themselves, to enjoy each other’s company. Especially Foggy. He seems exhausted. Haunted, even.

“Don’t you have plans with Marci toni--“

“Marci is going out dancing with her friends,” Foggy says quickly. Matt opens his mouth, but before he has the chance to reply to that, Foggy carries on, “And before you ask about that, Karen’s going to be fine on her own too, she’s meeting her homicidal boyfriend.”

And, oh. There goes Matt’s last reservation. 

“Matt,” Foggy needles, in a completely out-of-character way. “Come on. _Please_. Let’s just _go_ and not come back until tomorrow.”

Matt closes his laptop. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.” 

Day 22

Matt leans back in his chair and sighs.

It’s a bright and early summer morning, a prelude to another hot and sunny day, and he’s been having a great day so far. It would still be a great day if only Karen’s phone would stop. Ringing. It’s starting to drive him mad. On and off, on and off, for the past hour. Christ. Matt grits his teeth and gets up, marches into Karen’s empty office and grabs the phone.

“Yes?” he says sharply, heedless of proper etiquette. He can feel a headache coming, fuck, and it was such a great morning, literally nothing hurt when he got up. Everything was _fine_ and _good_.

No one answers. Matt waits for a minute, for two, but no one even breathes into the receiver. And then the line just goes dead.

 _Fuck_ it.

Matt puts the phone down and walks over to Foggy’s office. Foggy’s, predictably – it’s Foggy, after all, who doesn’t come in late and doesn’t do crazy or unexpected the way Matt and Karen tend to – sitting behind his desk, with his hands pressed to his lips. Thinking. There’s a weird aura around him, he seems exhausted and sad, and haunted, and Matt wonders when the last time he slept was. He wonders if he should bother him.

He probably shouldn’t press or pry. If there was anything wrong, Foggy would tell him, right?

“Where’s Karen?” he asks instead.

Foggy doesn’t move an inch. “Took a day off.”

“Why?”

“No clue.”

Matt sucks in a breath. He presses a hand to his forehead, between his eyes. Fuck, fuck...

“Are you okay?”

Foggy voice is full of concern and Matt is immediately flooded with appreciation and shame in equal measure. All this time and Foggy still worries about him. Foggy shouldn’t have to worry about him.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Foggy, you--You don’t have to worry about me.”

Foggy’s breath catches. “That,” he says and it sounds _wet_ , “is the most patently stupid thing you’ve ever said.”

Matt chooses to ignore the insult. “I appreciate it, but--“

Foggy’s worried about him. Foggy constantly worries about him. And yeah, maybe nothing much is happening in the city right now – except for that circus freak on stilts, but that’s not Hell’s Kitchen and Matt can’t really be bothered – but it’s not like Foggy _knows_ that, so perhaps all that exhaustion and sadness, maybe that’s just Matt, Matt making Foggy worry and giving him anxiety and--

 _Bad thoughts_ , he reminds himself.

“But what?” Foggy prompts.

Christ, he’s the worst best friend ever. “You need to take care of yourself first. Not me.”

“As I said, stupid.” Foggy clenches his fists. “I _can_ take care of you, too. I’ll try as many times as it takes.”

Day 28

Matt leans back in his chair and takes a bite of an egg sandwich. 

It’s a bright and early summer morning and the birds in the tree outside of his office window are chirping happily. The decision to stop by that new corner café was the best one he’s made today so far, and this is really shaping up to be a great day, not a lot to do, even the motion he’s filed three days ago was--

“NO!”

Matt puts the sandwich away. That’s--that’s Foggy’s voice. That’s Foggy’s voice and Foggy sounds distressed. Terrified, even.

“Nelson, this has gone for long enough, I was plenty indulgent--“

Matt frowns. Isn’t that Danny’s wizard friend, Strange?

“Please, _please_ , just not _yet_ \--“

The front door to their office opens and three people step in. Foggy, distressed and terrified and reeking of salt. Stephen Strange, angry. And...

And Karen. Calm, then shocked. Then terrified as well.

“Hi,” Matt says from his office.

Karen gasps. “Foggy,” she says softly, and Foggy turns his head as if to hide, “Foggy, what did you _do_?”

Day 28 (continued)

Matt fiddles with his pen, flipping it between his fingers. It gives him something to do and something to distract himself with.

“How long?” he asks.

Foggy says nothing. Ever since they entered Matt’s office ever since they sat down and tried to explain everything, Foggy has refused to look at him. He’s just sitting in one of the client chairs and staring at his shoes.

“How long?” Matt repeats.

It’s Stephen Strange who replies, “Twenty-eight days.”

Matt involuntarily squeezes his eyes shut. _Christ_.

“You have to understand,” Stephen Strange continues, “that this enchantment was never meant to be used like this. What Nelson has done is stretching and distorting reality, it’s starting to cause breaks in it, some of which might be irreparable. This enchantment... It was meant to be a balm, a closure, it was meant to--“

“To do what, mhm?” Foggy interrupts him. His voice is hollow, and that scares Matt more than everything else he’s heard in the past fifteen minutes. “What _exactly_ is the point of it?”

“It’s supposed to give you a chance to let go,” Stephen Strange answers softly. “To let go and move on.”

“Screw that,” Foggy snaps.

Karen tries to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but Foggy brushes her off and goes back to pointedly staring at the floor. This is quickly going nowhere.

“Could I speak to Foggy,” Matt asks, “alone?”

Stephen Strange inhales and readies himself for a retort, but Karen stops him. She grabs his arm and squeezes, silently, all the while looking at Matt. It’s awkward. Christ is it awkward. He hasn’t seen her since yesterday when she was closing their front door and joking about feeling an onset of allergies coming and about going home and sleeping for at least a month.

 _She_ hasn’t seen him for a month.

She wasn’t even supposed to see him now.

_Jesus._

And Foggy’s still looking at the floor.

There are so many things Matt would like to ask him, starting with ‘what the fuck?’ and ending with a more empathic ‘what the _actual fuck_?’, but he settles for a simple, “How?”

“You heard the wizard.” Foggy shrugs. “He’s a wizard or something.”

“Then why?”

“Because it was stupid.” Foggy grips his hair and tugs. “It was _stupid_ and horrible and unfair and you deserve _so much_ \--“

“Bruce Banner and Tony Stark have proven that while time travel exists, you can’t _change_ something that has already happened.”

“Not with that attitude you can’t,” Foggy grumbles. Matt smiles, almost despite himself. Foggy lets go of his hair and runs a hand down his face. “I’m historically _not_ great at letting go and moving on.”

Matt can relate. “What happened?”

“Which time?” Foggy murmurs. “Because I’ve seen you shot, stabbed, impaled, ran over by a car, ran over by a bike delivery girl, pushed in front of a subway train, accidentally poisoned, tripping over a cat of all things.”

“And the stupid and horrible and unfair?”

“Oh. That.” Foggy swallows. “The stilt guy. It was that stilt guy.”

“Was I at least being very heroic?”

“Not really. More of a... wrong place, wrong time kind of thing.”

“Sucks.”

“Yeah.”

They sit in silence for a moment as Matt contemplates his own mortality. The fact that he should have died a long, long time ago. Back there with Nobu. Back there with Elektra. Or, or the fact that, for an equally long time now, he’s felt that he’s been living on borrowed time. Now, it appears, quite literally. And wholly undeservedly.

 _Bad thoughts_ , he tells himself immediately. Recognition. An important first step in getting better.

“I would have preferred to have gone out doing something heroic.” Foggy’s head snaps up at that. “Like... stopping the stilt guy from whatever nefarious scheme he’d had going on at the time.”

“He stole some trinket from Strange and was running away,” Foggy tells him quietly. “From what I know.”

“Beats tripping over a cat.” Foggy’s staring at him. Foggy’s staring at him as if afraid that Matt might disappear any moment now. Matt licks his lips. “What if. What if we just... close early today? It’s hot. Let’s just go home and spend a nice, quiet day together. And later--Later we can decide what I’ll do.”

“That,” Foggy’s breath catches and Matt can’t hear his heart breaking, even though he knows that it is, “that would be nice. I’d enjoy that.”

“And tomorrow,” Matt continues, because it’s important, “you can come back to the office.”

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I could. Tomorrow.” 

Day 29

It starts raining at night. 

Foggy Nelson doesn’t come back to the office.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional Tags: Major Character Death, Time Loop


End file.
